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Published: March 1st 2011
Today I really didn't want to go swimming again, so I tried to go to the Auckland Museum instead. It didn't work out. It really
didn't work out.
Every gallery in the museum except the special exhibition of early botanical texts, "Illustrated Leaves," and the small rock collection had a multimedia component. On the top floor, the World War II gallery featured Churchill's speeches; the World War I gallery was filled with orchestral music of some sort, and the two clashed and echoed in the central war-memorial gallery.
On the middle floor, there were many small TV screens showing presentations about the various stuffed animals. And the ground floor had a "Maori Culture" exhibition with music that echoed through the entire floor.
It hurt my collarbone so much I couldn't focus on the exhibits. I spent half an hour trying to find a quiet place in the museum, and when I couldn't find anything but the two places above, I called Kevan. (The rock collection area wasn't as quiet as it could have been, being filled with squealing youngsters, and the botany texts were in a darkened gallery with no place to sit down.)
He was kind enough to stop and let me walk around the four speed bumps we crossed on the way home, but my shoulder still hurts more than it did. This is rather scary. It really wasn't an exceptionally loud museum. This time last week, I'd probably have liked it. And if it hurt me this much, what's the train journey home going to be like?
Jim says if I simply cannot endure the train I should get off of it and he'll come to get me somehow, but that would cost us over a thousand dollars by the time the dust settled, so I'd better endure it. It's not likely to make my shoulder permanently worse.
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